


You Should Tell Me

by Catchclaw



Series: Mental Mimosa [13]
Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Corporate, Consensual Infidelity, M/M, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-06
Updated: 2018-05-06
Packaged: 2019-05-02 23:39:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14556090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catchclaw/pseuds/Catchclaw
Summary: Tony Stark wasn’t a man above putting his hands on his hips and heaving some great sigh.





	You Should Tell Me

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Teasing or tickling

Tony Stark wasn’t a man above putting his hands on his hips and heaving some great sigh. Nor did he object, in principle, to the stamping of a foot and concomitant rolling of the eyes. But that it was Bucky Barnes, ex-denizen of Langley, ex-professional extractor of secrets, he of lanky hair and pointed eyes, frequent guest star in Tony’s most pornographic daydreams, and oh, you know, husband of Tony’s favorite business partner who’d driven him to such a state was downright infuriating.

“This,” he said through clenched teeth, “is not fucking funny, Barnes.”

Barnes’ mouth lifted, his fingers still drifting over Tony’s tie. “Do I seem like I’m joking?”

“Maybe. I don’t know.”

A squeeze at his hip, a chuckle, and jesus fucking christ, Bucky was close. Tony took another step back, or tried to, but his damnable desk was in the way, and that just made things ten times worse because now, he knew he should be running, ducking out of Bucky’s electric grip and making straight for the door, inconvenient hard-on be damned. His assistant, Pep, had seen worse. She’d give him shit about it for a while, makes jokes about his dry cleaning bill, but she wouldn’t think any worse of him, wouldn’t know that he was a man who’d come this close (ha) to contemplating something seriously, seriously stupid like spreading his legs and grabbing Barnes’ gorgeous face and letting the infidelity-shaped chips fall where they may.

“If you don’t want me to touch you,” Bucky said, sand over glass, “you should tell me.”

“Did I say that?”

Bucky smiled, bent his head to tuck it against Tony’s neck, the soft, vulnerable stretch above his collar. “Not in so many words,” he murmured. “But I can’t help but notice that you keep backing away.”

Tony’s death grip on the desk eased a little and god, he wanted to slide his fingers into Bucky’s hair, to dig his nails into the back of the man’s perfect neck. “If you’re reading the room right,” he said, sounding out of breath, “then why aren’t you leaving?”

A soft, hot sound at his throat, a quick kiss, the promise of fire. “Because I like this. I like you. And this might be the only chance I ever have to show you how much.”

“Only chance--?”

Bucky bit at his ear. “Steve hadn’t talked to you yet, has he?”

“About--?” Bucky nipped at him again, fed Tony the scratch of his beard, and Tony groaned, a long, low note that peaked in the shove of his hips, the press of his super unhelpful cock against Barnes’ broad thigh.

“He’s selling his stake in Avenger Industries,” Barnes said. “He wants to divest his investment completely.”

Tony lifted his head towards the surface, tried to summon his neurons to do their damn job, but all that came out was: “Why?”

Bucky’s hand swept over his side and planted itself firm against the small of his back and it wasn’t totally Tony’s fault, surely, that his legs found their way around Barnes’ waist, or that his fingers finally gave up on teak and drowned themselves in Bucky’s hair at fucking last.

“Because,” Barnes said, with a grin to beat any wolf, “we’re in love with you.”


End file.
